I’ve been itching for something more, not even lately, but forever.  It’s not that I would ever act on the itch, or that I’m not happy with what, or more specifically who I have, but there is the itch, nonetheless. 

I think about my childhood.  I was the kid who traveled the world, literally.  I had flown around the world 3 times by the time I was 16.  I had lived in England and visited several other countries before I even hit my teen years.  I could speak Chinese when I was 5, and I could understand just about any accent latched on to English, no matter how thick. 

In high school I was dreaming about adventure and grandeur.  I was not ready to settle in any area of my life.  I had a hard time deciding what I wanted to do with my life, not for lack of ambition, but rather for the multitude of options the world offered me.  But in my arrogance, I turned my nose up to so many opportunities… –Modeling in Japan, all expenses paid?  Medical school of my choice, tuition paid?  Traveling the world for a living?  Language school in Monteray, California, followed by two years in Paris? –

Even after I joined the military, my dreams were still in world travel and adventure.  My career was supposed to take me to new places, show me new things, give me new stories.  So how did I become the ex-military, divorcee mom living in a town (not a city, but a TOWN) in the US, rarely leaving my state?

Social networking sites like Facebook, Myspace, and Twitter have opened doors for keeping up with those you would have normally lost along the way.  I follow many of my old school-mates, mostly just dropping in to see what they are doing, and I’m jealous.  My best friend in 8th grade is working in China right  now, but her job has taken her all over the world.  A close friend from 9th grade has pictures of Israel and Jerusalem and France and who knows where else filling his virtual albums.  A friend from most of high school just got married, in Spain, in a beautiful Cathedral and several of our other friends were there with her, and she’s now living in Tunisia.  I have friends who graduated from MIT, Cornell, Harvard, Berkley, Stanford, and  NYU, not to mention ones who have gone to college in Europe, all landing fabulous jobs right after.  I have friends who are successful entrepreneurs, growing their dream businesses from nothing to fruitful.  I have friends in most of the major cities in the US, and some of the biggest business and cultural meccas around the world.  They consist of lawyers and doctors and international businessmen and women and engineers and peace corps workers and professional bicyclists and actors and researchers and bank vice presidents and people that work for the Department of State and Amazon.com and .  What the hell happened to me?  And this is why I did not attend my high school reunion…

Many people say things like:  “I can’t imagine life without my kids,” or “I don’t know what I would do without my kids.”  Well, I can and I do.  Does that make me a bad person?  I love my kids unconditionally.  I adore my kids completely.  If given the choice now, I wouldn’t give them up for anything.  And they do make me happy.  But I can still imagine what my life would be like if I had never turned down that road of marriage and mommy-hood.  Well, I can at least imagine myself nestled deeply in each of the few dozen options that the world would once again lay before me. 

I would learn to surf, while living a simple life in a crappy shack on the beach, making next to nothing, but needing even less.  Just me and nature, coming together…

I would see the world, taking pictures of all the beauty it holds, submitting things to publications like National Geographic, needing nothing but some good shoes and my camera…

I would learn to cook, dedicate my time and money to the best culinary school around, working hard to make it through a grueling kitchen while mastering cuisine from around the world…

I would spend months in an Ashram in India, finding my true self, away from the distractions of life…

I would study archeology, making discoveries about past and lost civilizations, finding priceless treasures in knowledge… 

I would finish school, finish grad school, and be anything I wanted to be…

I could help the world…

Of course, I would travel, see everything I’ve always wanted to see, join in with different cultures in different places, revel in the beauty all around us, become a true person of the world, expand myself and my understanding in the world…

I would be me.  Not a mom.  Not simply an extension of another being.  Just me.  Free to do and think and be what I want without the fear of responsibility to another.  I do love my kids and I gladly walk away from my options to be with them now that they are here.  But if they’d never been…

Yeah, so today is my birthday.  I’ve decided this is a damn good time to start celebrating anniversaries instead…so yep, this is my first anniversary of 29.  My fabulous friend and confidant Y surprised me with a gift bag on my desk this morning containing some much needed Reese’s cups (WTF is up with our vending machine people that they are totally forgetting to restock the chocolate-peanut-buttery goodness that it Reese’s lately??), and a gift card to Famous Footwear (yeah, she knows me), and this fabulous stuff from Bath and Body Works’ True Blue Spa collection: “29 and holding!” I like the sound of that!  It’s some sunscreen stuff, with little mini bottles of “Tahiti, sweetie” lotion, “Watch Your Mouth” chap stick, and “So Aglow” tan-enhancing shimmer after-sun spray.  Just give me some fabulous drink (Mojito, please) and a little umbrella and I can call this vacation time!

Work was kindly too.  I got some wonderful training on a difficult flight (nice!), and today just happens to be the employee appreciation free ice-cream truck day here (totally planned around my birthday, I just know it).  Besides that, one of the guys at work bought me lunch (BLT and fries) and Ms. D brought me not one, but two decadently delicious chocolate cakes to celebrate …yeah, diet starts tomorrow).  Ok, so maybe everyone here isn’t an asshole…

But on to what will officially be called “The greatest birthday present ever!” from here on out:  My weekend in NYC, care of none other than Mr. W himself (cue drum roll, swinging lights, fireworks, sparkly things falling from the ceiling, all that stuff).

We checked into our hotel around 6pm.  He booked this gorgeous little bed-and-breakfast (more like bed and your breakfast will be like every other chain-hotel continental breakfast in the lobby at 7am) in Hell’s Kitchen.  Not sure why it’s called “Hell’s Kitchen,” but with the amount of simply fabulous restaurants and delicious food there, I can only deduce that food that good has to be a sin of some sort!  The first night we ended up in this little…I don’t really know what kind of restaurant it was.  The maitre d (I hate that I can’t use those little wavy things in my French words!) was from somewhere in South America and absolutely charming.  The food was delectable.  I had a spicy red snapper with the best Spanish rice I’ve ever tasted.  And the wine list, adorable!   It categorized it’s wine in the most divalicious way:

After, we walked the two blocks to Times Square.  Well, what can I say…it’s Times Square!  All lights and sparkles (and crowds, but who cares).

We decided to hop on a bus tour of the city, that took us into Brooklyn.  Very cool…no really, we were freezing our asses off and ended up in the bottom of the bus for the ride back.  I didn’t get a ton of pictures as it was dark and we were moving, but here’s one I did catch of Ground Zero (just getting started on the building, apparently).

We wandered a bit more after the tour until we found ourselves worn out (midnight) and headed home, planning on an early start the next morning.  Yeah, not so much.  We headed out about 9am, found a nearby Starbucks (of course…but then again, we passed about 100 in the length of our trip)

and after our much needed caffeine boost, headed to the “Top of the Rock,” Rockefeller Center.  Such a beautiful view of the city!  Here is Central Park:

And, of course, the Empire State Building:

And my favorite, St. Patrick’s Cathedral (I think):

I learned in some Art class once that all the old churches were built like this, in the shape of a cross.  That was by far my favorite part of New York, the architecture.  To see these beautiful old buildings set right next to these equally beautiful modern buildings.  It just takes my breath away!

Saturday afternoon, the piece de resistance (read with uncanny French accent, again needing the wavy things) of the trip…(again, flashing lights, falling sparkly things…) Wicked…on Broadway!! Mr. W and I have both read the book, and he’s actually read the second (of three) book as well, and he surprised me with the much desired tickets.  The seats were good, close (like the third row from the stage) but off to the right, so we couldn’t see all of the backdrops, but we didn’t miss anything!  The show was phenomenal!  I was mesmerized by the vocals, the story (a well-blended mix of The Wizard of Oz and Wicked), the costumes, the scenes…it was all, well, perfect! Definitely the best birthday present ever!! (Plus I picked up some merch, care of Mr. W: a hoodie and a “one night in New York” Wicked T-shirt…sweet!!)

After the show, we meandered back to the hotel, stopping to eat another delicious meal along the way.  We changed clothes and headed out again, this time to Central Park.  We started off at Strawberry Fields, of course:

And then just kind of roamed around, checking out that bridge that’s in like every movie set in New York:

While shooting this raccoon climbing a tree

there was some sort of commotion on the other side of the pond that involved a blood-curdling female scream, and a (very fast) man running away.  Nope, New York didn’t deprive me of any of it’s cliches!

By the time we made it back to the Hershey Store in Times Square, (and a couple other stops for cheesy souvenirs) we were both exhausted (and still had 4 stories of too skinny, too steep stairs to walk up).

Sunday morning we slept in, and hit Starbucks, of course, for breakfast and coffee.  Then back to the hotel to pack, check out, and back on the road home.  We did stop off in New Jersey for some “New York style” pizza for lunch though… 

So, I may have mentioned my imminent increase in age coming up, you know, the big 3-0 and all the crap unfortunate side effects stuff that goes with it.  Well, it’s Monday.  Yep, I am a 13-baby.  As a matter of fact, I was born on a Friday (yeah, go ahead and think what you want about Friday the 13th…but I swear it’s not true…well mostly not…well, maybe a little…). At 11:44pm.  6 minutes to midnight.  In July.  In Arizona (so my mom’s last few months just totally sucked!).  After 16 hours of labor.  By C-section…yeah, sorry Mom.

Anyway, so Monday is my B-day and of course Mr. W, in all his wonderfulness, has been plaguing bugging inquiring what I would like.  I did my list, but don’t really expect anything from it.  Yes, I would like to have someone buy me all of it, but I’m of the mind that if I want something, I can just go get it myself.  It may take a little longer, but then it’s really mine. Maybe it’s the whole you appreciate something more if you get it yourself.  Maybe it’s that I held out for so many years for things promised by my dad (computer at 14, Mustang convertible at 16, Honda Del Sol at 17, visits at graduation from high school/basic training/technical school, digital camera* at 26, MacBook at 28…) that I finally figured out to stop waiting thus ending the imminent disappointment attached. In the end, I simply told Mr. W that I would rather us take a trip somewhere than have him spend too much money on my birthday.  Damn he’s a good listener!

After work Friday, we will be driving up to New York!! We are staying at a fabulous bed and breakfast walking-distance from Times Square, and then Saturday…Wicked on Broadway!!! (At the Gershwin Theater!) Yeah, lots of jumping up and down and screaming and stuff has gone on since he told me.  I read Wicked about a year ago, and convinced Mr. W to read it as well.  We both loved it and have been foaming at the mouth at the possibility to see it, anywhere.  And now we are going.  (Did I mention on Broadway?!) Ok, so I’m a little geeky about the whole thing, but really, it’s Broadway. In New York! Of course, I will be taking Mr. D ( my lover, my soul-mate, my Nikon) with Mr. W’s encouragement, of course.  Times Square at night…Central Park…the Brooklyn Bridge…*sigh* I’ve also heard rumors that they’ve reopened the Statue of Liberty for tourists, so we may try to stop there too.  I’m so freakin’ excited!!

I’ve been to New York once.  Ex#2′s sister was at one of those IMTA conventions, so we went with his parents and the boy for support.  It was hell.  Ex#2 and his father have strong issues with crowds (among other things), so they were basically stressful assholes the whole trip.  The boy peed through his diaper on the subway, onto my shirt.  The sister didn’t get any call-backs, and was in fact told she was too fat to model.  Hmmm…I wonder if this experience fed into her later hospitalization for eating disorders…  Anyway, I didn’t get to see much of the city, and was sorely disappointed by the whole trip.  But now, all that changes thanks to my Mr. Wonderful!  He’s been there once before as well, with his Ex#2.  Better than my trip, but not exactly ideal for him either.  Apparently they rented an apartment for a week there, which she was responsible for.  Turns out the owners had cats there, and Mr. W is severely allergic.  Seriously, he coughs, swells, itches, the whole deal.  So they couldn’t spend much time there, which isn’t such a big deal in itself.  After all, it’s New York. Stuff doesn’t close there, so why the hell would you want to stay home??  Unfortunately, Ex-Mrs. W was/is a little, uh, high maintenance.  She has eating issues…so when she is finally hungry, MUST.  EAT.  NOW!  Also, due to the non-eating thing, she wears out fast.  And where does one rest when away from home…oh yeah, the cat hair-infested apartment that you rented.  Nice. Anyway, I’m hoping I can give him a good trip, as much as he is giving me.  (Give and take…that’s what it’s all about!)  Did I mention how excited I am?!

On a side (yet no less meaningful) note:  Mr. W’s wonderful childhood friend, and my friend, The Girl From the Ghetto herself, took time amidst feeling like crap post-surgery to send me something so sweet:

How wonderful is that?  (No wonder Mr. W adores you so much, Girly!)  Who sends Thank-you cards anymore?  Especially when feeling like crap and stuck in bed?  It’s the small things that touch my heart, and this surely did.  Thank you, Girly! I’m glad I could bring you some laughter, and I truly hope you feel better soon!  And to all you miracle-makers and wish-granters out there (and any editors, magazine-runners, and other writing-involved people), who may happen upon this, check TheGirlFromTheGhetto out…she is simply fabulous and truly deserves a miracle!

*To be fair, about 3 weeks after I bought found my one true love (my Nikon D-40) my dad did send me a check to cover the purchase price.

Last night was better.  Granted, the girl was caught standing on the dining room table, jumping on a bed, and intentionally breaking one of the boy’s toys, but given the choice of screaming, defiant whininess and just regular 3 year old bad behaviour, I’ll take the latter every time.  At bed-time, she jumped right in, no arguements, and (presumably) went right to sleep.  Whether she did or not, there was  no pitter-pat of running (playing) feet, or talking, or fussing to note.  Score one for Mom!  Now let’s see how tonight plays out.

In blogging news, I’ve been crappy on here lately, but I intend to work on it.  I think I’ve forgotten what an outlet my blog has been for me in the past, and in neglecting it I’m also neglecting myself.  I have a tendency to hold things in until I just can’t anymore, resulting in volcanic erruptions of some sort of emotion or otherwise (not fun for anyone in my path).  I did update my set-up awhile back (you may have noticed the change to the blaring orange that now graces my page), but have done little productive since.  And, in case you are wondering, I am not a complete deviant…I intentionally spelled “peace” that way, its a play on words, see…  Of course, I messed with some other settings and now, according to the handy wordpress stats thingy, NO ONE reads my blog*.  I was admittedly a little bummed about that, until The Girl from the Ghetto graced one of my posts with a comment containing some fabulous money-saving ideas for my upcoming wedding.  So, obviously someone is reading…but now to figure out how to turn my tracker do-hicky back on…

Home life has been, well, home-life.  The stress of the kids 1) being whiny and defiant and 2) leaving soon for the summer has been weighing on our house-hold.  Mr. W is working on his “parenting” patience, and doing quite well actually.  It’s been 10 years since he’s had to deal with all the pain frustration stress joys of a 3 or 5 year old, so I do my best to cut him a little slack when it comes to joining in the parent parade.  Besides that, we do differ on some of our views when it comes to raising and ruling kids, so I allow him some leway on that lerning curve.    On top of the normal kid stuff, there are all the looming factors.  And the cherries?  Work, school (for us both), and life in general.  All in all we are holding things together pretty well.  No real fighting.  We are taking it all on on a united front, as far as I can tell. 

I am trying my damnedest to plan some sort of weekend getaway for just the two of us, though.  It’s been awhile since we have taken a trip together.  We used to quite often when we were still dating (granted there was more opportunity then).  We’ve done DC, the mountains, Philadelphia/Atlantic City (not our best trip, but hey), Detroit, and a little bit of Miami (before our family cruise).  I think it would help…but then there’s planning, financing, and pulling it all together sans stress…hmmm, wish me luck!

*hint, hint. If you are out there blogoverse, let me know it.  Send me a “hey how, ya doing,” or a comment…you know, whatever. 

I haven’t posted in awhile…I’ve been on a cruise…with Mr. W…in the Caribbean…ahhh, it was freakin wonderful!!  Ok, enough gloating.  Our first four painful months apart ended and we celebrated with his mom and his kids on a Royal Caribbean cruise, stopping in San Juan, Puerto Rico, St. Maarten/St. Martin, and Labadee, Haiti.  Warm weather, flowing rum, beautiful islands, and lots of love.  Heaven in a week!  I would love to (and probably will…later) write all about my fabulous trip, complete with photos to make you really hate me, but there is much more important news to be shared…

(in opposite order of importance)

1. I am officially a Miss.  The paperwork was signed by the judge on February 10th, and I am permanently and legally divorced from STBX ex#2!  Yea!!
2. My “Miss” status isn’t permanent.  Yep, Mr. W proposed!! 

There were bets and expectations that he was going to propose on the cruise, although I whole-heartedly argued against them.  Not that I didn’t want him to.  Just that I was sure he would wait a while.  While he didn’t exactly wait (quite the opposite actually) he did not propose on the cruise.

Let me set the scene:  We were at the airport, a couple hours early for our flight to Miami, drinking Starbucks and smoking outside in the designated smoking area, just chatting about our trip and what-ifs and stuff like that.  Out of  nowhere, he said “hold on” and started digging through his carry-on.  I had no clue what he was looking for.  When he found it, he spun back around to face me, and in one (pretty damn graceful) movement went down on both knees, opening a beautiful wooden box containing the most beautiful ring I have ever seen.  With sparkling love in his eyes (and a slight shake in his hands) he said, “So, you gonna marry  me?” 

Ok, ok.  I know this doesn’t sound like the most romantic proposal in the world, especially with Valentine’s day and a luxurious Caribbean cruise right around the corner, but if you knew us, you would know it was perfect.  Of course, no one really knows “us” except maybe his kids, and they don’t really know us-us, just a watered down kind of grody parentish us that we are around them.  The only one that kind of knows us is my friend Y, who only really knows “us” from me.  She knows Mr. W from years of working with him (and from her eerie likeness to him in their twins-separated-at-birth kind of way…not in physicality, but more in mentality and though processes).  Other than that, we haven’t really had time to foster any deep couple-type friendships that would yield to someone knowing how absolutely perfect his proposal was…for “us.” 

And the ring:  the ring is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.  (yes, I realize my heart may possibly have taken complete control of my eyes in this particular case…but still…stunning.)  It is a ring I never would have picked, or even looked at were it not attached to the love of my life asking for my hand in marriage.  But brought into focus, it’s perfect.  It’s a half carat marquise diamond set on a white gold band.  But there is more.  The band is fairly thin, but kind of overlaps under the diamond, sticking out about a quarter of an inch on either side.  Kind of like part of a spring’s coils.  (In case any of you are scoffing at the size of the diamond…I have very petite fingers…size 4 1/4…so anything bigger tends to look like a little girl playing dress-up with mommy’s jewelry on me.)  I love the ring because it is simple, yet still unique.  I prefer princess cut, but something about the way the marquise sits is just…perfect.  I prefer yellow gold, but the white gold just shines perfectly on my finger under the diamond.  I love the vintage looks, but the simplistic uniqueness of this band is, well, perfect. 

It’s the ring I never knew I always wanted.  There is no other word but…perfect. 

Perfectly in love.  Perfectly engaged.  Perfectly happy (except maybe that he’s back to being 6000 miles away).  Just perfect!